


The Light Within

by Tamora de Raedt (northernMagic)



Category: Mairelon the Magician - Patricia Wrede
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-09-09 12:23:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8890645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/northernMagic/pseuds/Tamora%20de%20Raedt
Summary: Richard meets a ghost, and gets a certain sunburst necklace.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [specialrhino](https://archiveofourown.org/users/specialrhino/gifts).



> I lost access to the books :( so if there are any incongruities, I am entirely at fault.
> 
> Also, I didn't have time to get a beta, so it is extremely rough but it is complete. I will fix it!
> 
> Also, I just realized this technically has a bit of time travel, strictly speaking, in the sense that A Christmas Carol is about possible future timelines. I really hope you don't hate A Christmas Carol, and if you do, I sincerely apologize.

As far as intellect went, Richard usually held himself to be on the higher end of the curve, though experience had forced his opinion of himself a bit lower (much to the relief of his mother). Still, he took pride in being able to outwit, out-plan, and generally outmaneuver most people in Society. It figured that Kim would be the exception to this too.

To be fair, Richard had outmaneuvered himself a bit; it was hard to achieve a goal, i.e. keeping Kim by his side in all endeavours, if he were not consciously aware of this primary goal in his life. He had been more occupied with keeping Kim happy in her new societal status, which was something he felt that anyone ought to do out of courtesy and affection for a friend. It was only decent. It hadn't actually occurred to him, even as he had suggested it, that presenting Kim to Society meant introducing her to suitable husbands - it had never been something that came up for him, as entrenched in his eccentricity as he was, nor had he anyone to arrange such a thing for before Kim. Aunt Agatha's eagerness to see Kim married was particularly frightening, but Kim...

Well, Kim was adjusting to the foreign customs of the aristocracy. Surely any strange behaviour on her part should be excused with graciousness. Richard was glad that Kim was seeing more faces and learning more graces than that of his household. Really. He was. He could teach Kim many things, but not how to survive as a respectable woman in Society, and it would probably do him good to have such a like-minded and compassionate connection in Kim, once she was established.

But must she be constantly surrounded and distracted by suitors as she did so?

 

As a man of reason, unfounded assumptions (for example, that Kim would stay with him agreeably until they both died of old age) could be costly. Richard decided to address his concerns as soon as possible. This turned out to be during that evening's dance lessons. 

Kim always seemed quite stiff during their dancing. Given that they were usually under the watchful chaperonage of Aunt Agatha, even Richard caught himself being quite tense- he remembered being forced to learn to dance himself by the woman. Such a dance was possibly not the best time to probe Kim's feelings about her future, but due to her social engagements, Richard had not seen her for several days. He was loathe to put the matter off until Kim got engaged to some young, eligible gentleman and left.

It was a good time in the progress of Kim's dance lessons for conversation, being just after Aunt Agatha's constant interjections about Kim's posture and asides about Richard's timing. The couple were sweeping around the room and Kim's steps were lighter with confidence and enjoyment. The invisible orchestra swelled, filling the room with a choir of strings and providing temporary cover from prying ears.

"Kim," Richard ventured quietly and immediately regretted not preparing his words beforehand. He lead Kim into a turn to buy some time.

"Is there something wrong?" Kim asked when they resumed form. Meeting her gaze from arms length gave Richard a jolt; Kim had been alternately staring at her feet and looking over his shoulder for the lessons so far. She was looking up at him with a slight frown. 

Richard was dismayed to find that his usual wit had deserted him, leaving him like a staring buffoon. When he didn't immediately answer, Kim darted a glance around and hissed, "Is it about...you know?"

"No, no," Richard reassured her. "It is simply...are you enjoying yourself, here?"

Kim looked taken aback, then thoughtful. "I am, Mairelon. I still think everyone's a bit mad but...it's working, isn't it? People are talking to me like I'm already a lady, not just about me. You needn't worry." She was quiet for a few bars, and then added, "I do like learning magic more than learning manners and dancing, though."

"Well, that's something we can arrange," Richard said with some relief, and considered the matter closed.

After all, he would be the one to practice magic with Kim, wouldn't he?

 

Richard was devastated when his magic was stolen. With the burglar still at large, Kim's safety and continued education was paramount, but underlying every arrangement was the certainty that this was the end. With every day that he spent at the College, he became acutely aware that most, if not all, of his circle of friends were connected to him through wizardry. He did not so doubt their character that they would turn their backs on him if his situation prove...permanent, but he doubted himself. He doubted that he would wish to remain anywhere that would remind him of the hollow feeling in his chest. 

Moreover, if Richard did not recover his powers, Kim would drift away into other peoples' orbits- an ambitious young woman on the rise while he faded into obscurity. It could not be borne.

Though Richard maintained a front of perseverance and optimism, it was incredibly draining. On a particularly chilly day, after he found himself uncharacteristically short of patience, Lord Shoreham had donned his authority and sent Richard home early with strict orders to rest and clear his head. 

This was, of course, an impossible request, but Richard heard the pity underlying the words and could not bear to talk to anyone any longer. He retreated to the house, where he brooded over the darkest of the grimoires he owned and watched the candle burn low. This made his Aunt somehow decide that he was coming down with something, and he had to further endure the homemade 'remedies' of the household staff. ("No one in this house is an apothecary, Aunt-" "I raised five healthy children before you, young man-") He finally had to ban all visitors from the library with a well placed solid oak side-table, whereas before a simple locking cantrip would have done. Then he realized that it was too late to find Kim and review her progress with the program for the ball. He gave up the day as a lost cause and drifted off in front of the fire.

Richard woke up with a start in a darkened room, the fire having burned down to glowing embers. The air was rather chillier than usual. He checked that the most temperamental of his books were locked down; they were sleeping peacefully.

In the depths of the house, the clock struck one.

The doorknob rattled. Right, the table was still in place. 

"One moment," Richard called, striding across the room, but he was arrested by the sight of a ghost drifting through the door. It was dressed in full hooded robes, faint spectral green aura, and heavy chains that scraped across the floor rugs quite impressively.

"Really," said Richard, much too shocked to quail. "Sir, I believe you have the wrong person. Chap by the name of Scrooge?"

The ghost stopped, and Richard had the distinct sense of being visually perused, not unlike meeting the eye of a mother at her daughter's ball. He fought the urge to hide behind a potted plant.

"Sorry to intrude, sir," the ghost enunciated slowly in a voice of gravel and rusty hinges. Somehow Richard got the impression that the ghost wasn't particularly sorry.

"Not to worry," Richard replied, a little desperately. "Would you like a seat?" He just managed to stop himself from offering tea -or was that rude to assume? Did he just fail a test, or was he damned either way?

The ghost proceeded ponderously to Richard's vacated seat by the fireplace. It considered the chair- a particularly uncomfortable heirloom which usually ensured that Richard didn't fall asleep- and sat with the grace of an accomplished matriarch. The chains passed through the seat. 

Richard sat on the matching chair to one side of the fire. The seat cushion had been appropriated for the other occupied chair, and the carved ivory inlay in the bare seat dug in painfully. The pain reminded him that he was, for the moment, alive- and he was too frightened to adjust his seat, anyway.

The black void inside the ghost's hood considered him. Richard wondered wildly if his usually sensible mother had come into some sort of arcane debt, and he was about to pay the price.

"Richard Merrill," said the ghost. Not even his own mother had instilled such fear in him by uttering his name. "What is the nature of your interest in Kim?

This was about Kim? "Kim is my friend," Richard declared defiantly, then added, "and my student. She picked up Gerard's Refuge in ten minutes!" But then, the ghost's visit didn't seem to be about wizardry.

"Why have you assumed guardianship of Kim?"

"Well, I couldn't very well have said, 'Good-bye, Kim, ta for the help!' and left her on the streets, could I?"

"Charity," the ghost intoned disdainfully, "and ambition. I should have expected no better from the likes of you."

"Before you smite me," Richard said hurriedly, for the room had cooled from chilly to downright cold, "pray tell- what were you expecting?"

"Someone worthy to take care of Kim-" the dread apparition loomed, filling Richard's vision- "...in her mother's stead."

"Well, I rather think that's up to Kim, don't you?" said Richard. "Erhm. With all due respect. And so forth." He braced himself to be disintegrated. When he still felt intact and in good health a few moments later, he peeked open his eyes.

The ghost was gone.

Cautiously he edged off his seat and grabbed hold of the fire poker. It was ice cold, and almost hurt to touch. When there was no further movement from the depths of the library, he took his time building the fire back up again. He was slow from lack of practice and jittery from the spectral encounter, and collected a few small burns on his hands. Finally, the fire was back at a merry blaze, driving back the shadows.

The clock struck two, and the fire went out.

"What now!" exclaimed Richard. He whirled around, poker in hand, expecting to find the Ghost of Christmas Present or some other fresh hellish sight. The room seemed empty of strangers, supernatural or otherwise. There was only the moonlight over the square, and the books rustling in their sleep.

A figure appeared, walking out into the square from right underneath his window. It was Kim, and not even in her old boy's clothing. She appeared to be walking briskly away from the house.

"Oh no you don't," Richard muttered, rushing to the door and shoving aside the table, with no regard for waking anyone else in the house. The rest of the house remained asleep, however, as Richard strode down the stairs and out the front door onto the street himself. He scanned the square in the mist and dim lamplight.

A raven croaked, startling Richard, who then realized he had carried the fire poker out with him. He found the bird-shaped shadow perched on the nearest lamp-post. It croaked at him.

"Nevermore," said the raven. 

"I should think not," retorted Richard, who was thinking angry thoughts about mysterious characters not staying put in the right stories. He quickly recovered his manners. "Please excuse me; I've just been having a rather eventful night. You didn't happen to see a young woman walk past from that house over there recently, did you?"

The raven croaked and fluttered a short distance to the next lamp-post. When Richard approached, it fluttered again, and on down the street.

In his defence, it did actually occur to him that this might have been a trap, but if Kim were at the other end, he was confident that they would find a way out together. Why, just last week she had come up with an ingenious use of Bartholomew's Defence when confined in close quarters. Not that they had been in close quarters- never mind.

Richard thought he knew the area around Grovesnor Square rather well, but the raven led him down unfamiliar streets where there was not a soul stirring. Eventually, Richard recognized an old bench here, the tree with the distinctive knots there, until he realized the raven was leading him back home.

"Wait a moment," cried Richard, running after the raven, but it was lost in a sudden wash of sound as he turned into the square. It was lined with jingling carriages and footmen and the gaily milling procession of Important People Going to a Party. The house was alight with lanterns and glittering magic.

Richard ventured closer, conscious of his rumpled clothing and pointed iron implement, but no one hailed him or even seemed to notice him. He found that he could stand in someone's way and they would move around him as though around a lamp-post. Before he could investigate further, he spotted Kim greeting guests at the door.

This was usually the point in one of Renee's stories where the prospective suitor, awed by his lady's beauty, would suddenly realize his love and describe her in rapturous detail. Richard was a rather stubborn sort of person, and instead noted that Kim seemed a little bored and restless. During a lesson, Richard would take this as a cue to change tack and start a different activity with Kim; but social niceties did not allow for that here.

He came up to the entrance where she stood, regardless. Her eyes flicked, scanning the arrivals between greetings. She picked at something on her wrist; a corsage. Richard narrowed his eyes at it, but the offending accessory refused to disintegrate into dust.

"I'm really quite sorry, Kim," said his mother. Richard had never heard his mother sound so...motherly. "He does seem absent-minded at times, especially with the current business, and I can't fault him for that, but I really thought...for you, of all people..." She frowned, and since she was looking in his direction, it seemed like she was frowning at him. Richard made a helpless gesture back, though (because) he knew she couldn't see.

"Mairelon will be here in time for the show, though," said Kim firmly.

"Yes, he will," his mother replied, and was she talking to him? "That's the last of them, I think. Kim, why don't you go inside and freshen up? I need to check on the wards." Kim reluctantly obeyed, and his mother continued to look at him. Her lips were pressed so thin as to be white.

"Richard," she said. "I hope you have a good explanation for why I can see straight through you."

"It's alright," Richard said, remembering not to wave the poker around. "I think this may be a dream."

"I know this is a dream," she replied. "This is my dream. Do you think there's enough hours in a day for me to arrange the ball and sleep as well? Never mind that. Do you know why you will probably be late, and to something that is your idea?"

"Not the faintest clue," said Richard blithely. He frowned. "I do hope it's not portentious."

"If you find out, let me know."

"Yes, Mother."

"And do take the time to reflect on what is missing from this scene."

"I will, Mother."

The Lady Wendell narrowed her eyes at him, then swept inside the house. The lights and carriages faded away until the house was as he left it, though now bathed in the light blue of dawn. The raven croaked from its perch above the door.

"No, I still don't understand what lesson I'm supposed to learn," Richard told the bird. "Though I have a feeling you are about to show me a possible future." It croaked at him reproachfully, then flew off until it was a speck in the brightening sky.

A peal of bells rolled through the square, joined by the dawn chorus. They were wedding peals, and Richard followed them with a sinking feeling to the church. The dread ghost was haunting the entrance.

"You assume too much," the ghost intoned, and glided aside to let Richard pass through.

The pews were packed with colleagues from the College and the who's who of Society. It seemed like no expense had been spared, for rich foliage real and illusory dripped from every railing, and the bride and groom glittered at the altar. From the back of the hall, Richard could not make out the groom.

"Who is he?" Richard demanded.

"Someone worthy," said the ghost.

"Why do you have the power to judge whether he is worthy?"

"I don't," the ghost replied. "You do."

"That's absurd," insisted Richard. "This is all absurd. Kim is not some pawn to be manipulated into marriage, by me nor anyone else, and she already said so herself. Her own mother would be in a position to know, I would think," he added, and instantly knew that he had overstepped.

Something shifted in the corner of Richard's eye, and he turned to find Kim standing there, resplendent as a bride on her wedding day, a hand on the ghost's arm.

"Mama" she said reverentially, and the apparition transformed into a middle-aged woman in a cook's uniform, brown eyes on Kim. "Thank you for watching over me, though I didn't know it." Kim's voice turned brisk. "But my life's no rags to riches, and we have more important things to worry about."

Kim turned to Richard, lifting her veil, and this time Richard couldn't suppress the fluttering in his heart, though he tried not to think about it too hard. She unclasped her necklace and folded it into a box, which she pressed into Richard's hands.

"You gave me my favourite thing in life," she told him. "Let me give it back to you."

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to remix this or any of my other works (with attribution) and drop a link back to me (voculae on tumblr).


End file.
